


Of Honey and Hives

by Kalinke



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-07 10:39:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalinke/pseuds/Kalinke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a party and there's mead. Merlin likes mead. But... something isn't quite right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Honey and Hives

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elufuir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elufuir/gifts).



> I'm not entirely sure if this warrants a warning, but if you're squicky about medical conditions or illnesses you might want to read the end notes first.

“Take that,” somebody tells Merlin. So he does, clumsily. It is… It is… it smells of – Merlin dips his nose into the liquid. Ugh. But it’s mead. Deliciously delicious mead. Mhm. Mead.

Merlin takes a sip. And just like that half the cup is gone and Merlin can’t help feeling the need to lean. Against a wall or something. Everything is just a bit unsteady and his hands can’t properly hold the cup. Wait? What’s going on there? Merlin looks down, squints, but his hands seem to be ok. Well, his fingers feel warm. But, that’s the alcohol. He knows that. But they also feel… larger? Alcohol makes you feel strong. Powerful and courageous. Which has to do with size. In a way. Kind of. Merlin blinks. Takes another sip. Mead’s all gone. Merlin frowns.

“Merlin? How about some mead?” that’s Alveena. And yes, now there’s a goblet in his hands, which still feel funny.

“Come on Merlin, let’s dance!” Myra smiles at him and Merlin takes a tiny sip – he could swear the goblet wasn’t even half filled when Alva- Alni- Lavinia gave it to him – and follows Myra into the crowd.

Everybody is smiling and moving and so is the ground and then Myra is tugging at him and pulling and then they are spinning around and jumping and they are laughing until Merlin is out of breath and has to go somewhere where he can lean. Just for a second.

Merlin surveys the room and scratches at his right armpit absent-mindedly. He grabs a jug of mead and carries it towards where he thinks he’s left his goblet. Yes. There is it. On that cute table-ish thing by the wall. Merlin smiles. Grins. This is good. Very good indeed. 

When he is back in position, leaning, he pours mead into his goblet and over the table. Strange. Merlin puts down the jug and flexes his fingers. No, not bigger. They are swollen. Which is odd. Merlin scratches his head. And his neck. Back up his head. And oh god, that feels good. The other hand moves towards his armpit which is itching like… like… it used to when he didn’t wash as a child. But no, that’s not it. Not at all. More like when he fell into the stinging-nettles near the meadow when he had to pick thyme for Gaius last month. Just, maybe not _as_ painful?

“Merlin!” 

It comes from out of nowhere. And it looks like Arthur, though he looks a bit blurry. Merlin scowls.

“Merlin? Are you ok?” Arthur asks, putting something on the thing where Merlin’s put his goblet.

Merlin shrugs and the fabric of his shirt is itchy and Merlin scratches along his collarbone. And then he’s using both hands to scratch at his neck and throat. And it’s not enough.

Arthur grabs Merlin’s hands, frowning. “Merlin? Come on.”

Merlin does. Go along. Lets himself being pulled out of the room into the hall. And then Arthur presses him against a wall. Which is nice, because it is cold.

“Merlin? What is wrong?” Arthur asks.

“My hands,” Merlin says, “they are swollen.” It’s not what Arthur expected, because Merlin can see blurry lines of incomprehension form on Arthur’s blurry face.

“Merlin, you… how much did you have to drink?”

“Not much. A few sips,” Merlin says and then repeats, “my fingers are swollen,” because he feels it’s important. And as if to prove it, Merlin moves his hands as if to show them to Arthur but Merlin is distracted by the itching around his neck. And behind his knees. And his feet. Oh yes. His feet. He rubs the back of one of his feet against his calf. Oh! God, yes!

Wait. His neck is still itching. Huh? Oh. Arthur’s grabbed his hands again and he’s looking at him oddly. Merlin can’t really make out the expression on Arthur’s face but he imagines it’s that intense gaze that Arthur sometimes has when he’s focusing on Merlin.

“Dude, what’s wrong with Merlin?” That’s a different voice. Lancelot.

“I’m not sure,” that’s Arthur. “But it’s not good, is it? Merlin, keep still. Don’t… No. Merlin!”

“You know, I think I’ve never seen him blush like that.” Sounds like Gwen. Yes, it is, Merlin can see her, though she is a bit wobbly. Lovely dress.

“It’s not a blush, I mean. It looks like a blush, but – There is also a rash.” Arthur says, caressing Merlin’s knuckles.

Merlin shivers and something tightens in his throat strangely. And that’s all wrong. That’s not how Arthur makes him feel.

“You know, I’m not a doctor. Yet. But I’d say that looks like urticaria,” Morgana says, because only Morgana would say something like that. Her being a medical student and all.

“What?” Merlin asks, trying to focus on… something. Anthing.

“What?” that’s Arthur and Lancelot.

“Hives,” Morgana answers and then goes on, “Merlin?” Morgana asks, then nothing, so Merlin thinks he should nod or something so he nods and Morgana continues, “Merlin, do you have any allergies?”

What? “No,” he says.

“Not that I can think of,” Arthur says.

“How about stress?” Morgana asks.

Someone presses a glass into Merlin’s hand.

“Thanks Gwen,” Arthur says, then. “Drink this.”

And suddenly it’s all a bit déjà-vu. Except for the general itchiness.

“No stress,” Merlin says, “Mead. I had mead.” Merlin decides to lean forward, away from the wall. And that’s better, because it’s Arthur.

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Merlin experiences an allergic reaction (severe rash) while incredibly drunk.
> 
> Side note: This story was brought to you by my own apparent allergy to home-made mead. 
> 
> Also, this story was written many many summers ago - shortly after season 2 aired. So, there are none of the new characters... And then [elufuir](http://archiveofourown.org/users/elufuir) did a vacation-thingy and this story seemed oddly fitting. :p


End file.
